


The Real Mary Poppins

by abbythebear



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Disney Everlark, Mary Poppins - Freeform, crossover fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 22:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3305627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbythebear/pseuds/abbythebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A modern AU Everlark/Mary Poppins crossover, in which Katniss Everdeen is the most sought-after nanny in the big city of Panem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Real Mary Poppins

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank all my friends who helped me out with this baby, especially J, Ann, PBJ, T$, and T-Racy. You guys are the best! 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr: abbythebear

 

Panem – sometime in 2015

 

_Winds in the east, mist coming in,_

_Like somethin’ is brewin’, about to begin._

_Can’t put me finger on what lies in store,_

_But I fear what’s to happen all happened before._

 

 

Peeta sat at his usual spot in the park, humming a familiar tune from a childhood movie as he put the final few touches on the colorful canvas before him. There was something missing from the painting, and as he tried to pinpoint it, he felt the distinct change in the wind. Leaves swirled around him as the strength of the wind increased. The Sunday morning crowd bustled past, many of them clutching their coats tighter to their bodies as they walked into the wind, but Peeta stilled. Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. The leaves floated to the ground as the passersby resumed their normal pace, pushing past each other, always in a hurry to get some place or another.

 

As the leaves settled, he returned to his paint tray, having realized the missing aspect of his painting. He mixed a brown and yellow, trying to perfect the gold of the dandelion in front of him, as the color was just a hair off. He felt her presence behind him as he lifted the brush, ready to continue. His entire body straightened, as if on instinct, and he touched the brush to the canvas, perfecting the weed that he had spent the morning painting.

 

The soft click of her boots on the cobblestone sidewalk was the only indication of her movement until her shoulder brushed his. Without looking away from his canvas, he greeted her. “Katniss Everdeen. Is it Tuesday already?”

 

The small brunette standing beside his stool stared thoughtfully at the painting, as if she were considering whether or not she liked it. “It’s beautiful, Peeta,” she breathed, ignoring his question. “As always.”

 

“Thank you,” Peeta acknowledged with a nod of his head. “And how are the Undersee-Hawthorne children?” He shot a grin her way just in time to catch the slight quirk of her lips. Katniss was wearing her usual work attire: jeans, boots, a sweatshirt and her jacket, along with the braid that hung over her right shoulder. And that god-awful bag she could never be without. Someday he would find out what was in that bag.

 

“They’re doing better,” she answered nonchalantly. “Mrs. Undersee-Hawthorne is happy and Mr. Hawthorne is pleased, so it seems as though my work will soon be done.”

 

Peeta knew well how rowdy the four young Undersee-Hawthorne boys could be, but it was no surprise that Katniss had been able to whip them into shape. The only surprise was how quickly it happened. Peeta had figured Katniss would stay with the children for the better part of a year, but here she was, five months later, ready to leave the family so they could live their happily ever after.

 

Known for turning children’s bad habits into good behaviors, Katniss was the most sought-after nanny in Panem. Some parents compared her to the as-seen-on-TV “Supernanny.” Some parents said she worked magic on their children. The real magic of Katniss Everdeen, however, was in the way she treated the kids. She was firm but caring in her no-nonsense approach of dealing with children. She got on their level, so to speak, while getting to know them. Katniss made the children feel loved and, perhaps more importantly, heard. She taught them critical thinking skills—even the young ones. ‘Her’ children also learned to navigate their problems, whether it was learning multiplication or coping with the loss of a loved one.

 

“So soon?” he asked, the humor evident in his tone. It was never a good idea to test Katniss Everdeen. It wasn’t even a good idea to pretend to test Katniss. Peeta was the only one who could get away with it, so he liked to antagonize her as often as he could. “Are you sure your magic has worked this quickly, Mary Poppins?”

 

Katniss gave Peeta her trademark scowl. “Honestly, Peeta,” she chastised, “You need to stop calling me that.” He chuckled, prompting her to take a swipe at him with the large bag she carried. “I’m serious; the Undersee-Hawthorne boys have been telling their classmates that Mary Poppins lives with them.” Peeta laughed harder at this, knowing he put the idea in their head. Using her uncanny ability to read his thoughts, Katniss continued, “And it is your fault, Peeta. If you hadn’t brought it up last week-“

 

Peeta stood up, cutting off Katniss mid-sentence. As he tried to contain his laughter, he began to clean his paintbrushes in the mason jar full of murky water that sat on the ledge of his easel. “Katniss, those boys mean well, and you know that as well as I do.” It was his turn now to reprimand her. “So they’re a little rambunctious!” He waved it off in a ‘boys will be boys’ manner, Katniss arching a brow in return. “They’re just trying to have some fun. I mean, Victor, Jameson, Robert, and Richard Undersee-Hawthorne,” he imitated in his best posh British accent. “They’re young… They’re probably tired of sounding like a law firm; cut them some slack.”

 

She was used to hearing speeches like these from Peeta. He had been giving them to her for as long as she’d been a nanny, but that didn’t stop her from rolling her eyes every time he gave the ‘cut them some slack’ speech. “’Cut them some slack.’” She mocked. “Sure, Peeta, because that worked so well for you and your brothers,” she teased him, knowing that a reminder of his and his brothers’ treacherous behavior would shut him up. Katniss elbowed him as he cleaned and he jabbed her back, starting a battle. Jostling each other back and forth became old, so Katniss relented. “Okay, whatever. Pack your stuff; let’s go to breakfast.”

 

The two were originally from the smallest, poorest suburb of Panem, called Twelve, and attended school together from kindergarten through senior year of high school. They hadn’t been friends throughout school; in fact, they had barely spoken five words to each other in thirteen years. It wasn’t until they literally ran into each other in Center Park that they had their first real conversation.

 

After they graduated from high school, Peeta moved to the big city to try his hand at Panem Institute of Art, but found the strict regimen stifling, so he left school and worked part-time as a pastry chef while supplementing his income by doing street art. Katniss, on the other hand, immediately left their tiny town for better opportunities. After losing her father and her younger sister, Prim, by the time she was 17, she needed a change and began waiting tables and picking up babysitting jobs to make ends meet.

Flash forward five years, and Peeta was a very successful artist, working on commission, but preferred his street art to any formal piece he’d ever created. His ‘day job’ was as a pastry chef for the ritziest hotel in Panem, The Piazza. In addition to creating the dessert menu during the week, he was often asked to decorate the cakes for weddings and important events. Katniss’ babysitting jobs turned into a full-time gig as the most in-demand nanny in the city of Panem. The career allowed her to choose her own pay, her own hours, and, to an extent, her own temporary family.

In many ways, life as a nanny was perfect for Katniss. Having been the primary caregiver to her younger sister after their father passed away, the sudden loss of Prim left her empty and broken. She refused to let herself get truly close to anyone since. Although she had managed to build a few solid friendships in Panem, the closest thing she had to real family anymore was Peeta, which suited her just fine. Being a nanny, Katniss was able to experience the benefits of a family life but also leave on her own terms, never getting too attached.

 

As Peeta collapsed his easel and closed the latch on his box of supplies, Katniss grabbed the ratty brown newsboy hat from the ground. It was almost full from change and rumpled bills the morning crowd had tossed in, and would no doubt be just as full after he set up for the afternoon crowd.

 

“I can’t believe you still use this gross thing,” she commented, inspecting it as Peeta retrieved another mason jar from his messenger bag, this one half filled with change.

 

Peeta scoffed at her insult, because he knew it was an insult. “Excuse you,” he snatched the hat away, careful not to tip it. “But it’s good luck. Always has been.” He set the hat on his stool, meticulously sorting through the bills, making sure they all faced the same way and were organized by denomination. “And you too will have good luck, simply from holding it.” He winked as he glanced up at her, having finished with the bills and tucking them in his jeans pocket. Peeta took no care in dumping the change into the jar and unceremoniously screwing the lid on, letting it fall to the bottom of his bag. They gathered up all of his supplies, the easel and art box in his arms and the messenger bag on his shoulder, giving the area a once-over to make sure he’d left nothing behind. With a nod, Peeta offered Katniss his arm and pulled the cap over his untamed blonde curls. Katniss’ hand slipped through his arm and they were off, but not before she grabbed the offending cap off of his head and stuffed it in her bag, despite his protests. As they exited the park, Peeta stopped at the corner and emptied his pocketful of cash into the waiting cups of the homeless gathered at the busy intersection.

 

\-----

 

_Wanted: a nanny for two adorable children._

 

 

“Boys!” Their mother yelled as they whizzed right past, paying her no attention. They had been riled up all day, and Madge Undersee-Hawthorne prepared for yet another round of scoldings. She looked to Katniss, her eyes pleading for help, as the nanny watched the scene unfold before her, occasionally sipping her coffee.

 

“Don’t give me that face. You are the one who wanted to do a day where I ‘observed’ your interactions with your own children, Madge,” Katniss taunted, not bothering to contain her smirk. Her friend, who was also her current—almost un-current—employer, narrowed her eyes.

 

“And you are the one who thought it would be a great idea!” The mother shrieked in exasperation as the four rowdy boys blew through the kitchen like a tornado for the umpteenth time that morning.

 

“False.” Katniss answered simply. “That was your loving husband who always goes along with whatever you say.”

 

Throwing the dish towel she had been holding to the ground, Madge released a frustrated grunt. Her reaction was oddly reminiscent of a tantrum Richie, her youngest at two years old, had thrown just last week. At Katniss’ chuckle, Madge lifted her head from where it rested in her hands, no longer concealing her threatening glare.

 

Katniss continued. “If you recall, I said this would be a disaster. Which it is.” Madge bent to retrieve the wounded towel, at least having the candor to look sheepish as she did so. “And you wonder where they get it,” she murmured, simultaneously sipping her coffee.

 

“I’m ignoring that.” Madge snapped, then softened just a second later. “I don’t know why they’re behaving this way,” she whined. “Help meeee!” She pleaded with Katniss but her friend was way too amused to take mercy on her.

 

“I’ve been here for five months and I could have left after two.” Katniss attempted to talk some sense into her friend. “They’re excited, Madge!” She stood and walked to the sink as she spoke. “They’re used to ‘Katniss the Meanie.’” Katniss raised her voice over the running water as she rinsed her cup and placed it in the dishwasher. “But now, Mom is home and she’s staying home. They’re ecstatic! Even more so since you guys told them they’re getting a sister.” Madge’s eyes took on a sheen that Katniss had grown familiar with over the past five months.

 

 

Although she and Peeta had known Madge and her husband, Gale, for about four years, Katniss had never seen the woman more emotional than when she was pregnant this time around. Katniss had originally taken on the task of staying with the four hellions as a favor to the couple while Madge transitioned from working full time to being a stay at home mom. Neither woman had expected Katniss to stay more than a month, but one month easily turned into several when Madge continually begged her friend to stay. Five months later, Katniss’ bags were back home and she would hopefully be able to take some time for herself.

 

“You’re basically a nanny for adults, Katniss,” Madge sniffed as she searched for a paper towel. “How do you know how to do this?”

 

Katniss walked to her friend and squared both her shoulders in her hands, her same posture for reprimanding a child. “Madge, ninety-five percent of my job is nannying the adults. The kids are the easy part.” She pulled her into a hug, one last reassurance for the scared mom. “You’re going to be perfect. Just love them and listen to them,” Katniss whispered in her ear; a rare sentimental moment for the nanny who was best described as abrasive. “Now,” she slipped back to her normal demeanor, “I don’t work for you anymore, and it’s my day off. I’m going now.”

 

Katniss rounded the corner and grabbed her oversized tote, making her way to the front door. Clapping twice, she waited for the commotion to slow. As the boys stopped in their tracks and walked over like puppies in trouble, Katniss heard Madge sigh, with a mixture of envy and relief, from the hallway.

 

“Okay, rascals, I’m heading out. I expect you to show your mother the same respect and proper behavior you showed me. Is that understood?” The boys nodded, but she could see their mother’s waterworks was contagious. The youngest two started rubbing their eyes while the older two’s noses turned red, all sure signs of oncoming tears.

 

“But, Miss Katniss!” Victor, the oldest cried in protest, starting a chorus of whines. “We don’t want you to go! Will you come back?”

 

“Honestly, boys,” she cut off the whining.

 

“No!” Jameson blubbered. “Stay with us, we miss you!”

 

“That will be quite enough, thank you.” He nodded, knowing better than to argue with Miss Katniss. “Now run along and pick up your toys. Spit spot.” The boys’ heads all bobbed in unison and they walked away, heads hanging. This  happened every time Katniss left a family, since her very first one. She tried her best not to let their overly emotional states get to her; she couldn’t show her vulnerability. After some time, she learned that the kids did just fine; it was the parents who struggled the most that first week afterwards.

 

Katniss opened the front door and gave one final nod to Madge, who smiled back and mouthed a silent ‘thank you.’ She pulled the door closed behind her and started her walk to the park. It was Tuesday and she had plans.

 

Peeta was waiting in their usual spot when she arrived only a few minutes late. He squinted into the sun as she approached him, greeting her with a bright grin and a wave. “Is it Tuesday already?”

 

“Ha. Ha.” Katniss took a seat next to him on the bench. “What’s on the agenda today?”

 

“You’re the one with the day off,” Peeta shrugged. He did this every week; forced Katniss to choose their activity for their shared day off.

 

“I’m not picking today,” she told him. “I pick every other week. Just choose something already.”

 

“Alright,” he conceded. “Let me think about it.” They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments before he spoke again. “How does it feel to be unemployed, by the way?”

 

Katniss snorted. “You mean the whole twenty minute walk here? It was nice. Peaceful. Quiet.”

 

“Ah, yes,” he mused. “I almost forgot how loud those boys are. I’m actually surprised Madge didn’t talk you into ‘one more month’ again.” They both chuckled, picturing their friend literally on her knees, begging Katniss to stay on with the family just one more month. That happened three times. “Do you have your next family in mind yet?”

 

Peeta glanced her way in time to see her shrug. “I’ve got that list at home, but I haven’t looked at it yet. I’m thinking of taking some time off.” He knew that Katniss rarely looked at the list, and when she did, she never used it. Her families had a mysterious way of finding her at just the right moment, and most times Katniss knew it wasn’t a mystery at all.

 

“Yeah, okay.” Peeta pursed his lips and stood, offering both hands to Katniss to pull her up as well. She took them with an indignant look on her face. “You and I both know you’re not taking any time off. You hate time off.” She opened her mouth to argue but he stopped her. He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “It’s alright, Katniss; there’s nothing wrong with it. I’m sure you’ll take a few days off and be ready again.” He found her scowl too cute to take seriously, so he went on. “I give you four days at home. You’ll be looking for a new family by Monday.”

 

For a second, she stared right at him. Then, ignoring his comments, she rolled her eyes and started walking, leaving him behind. He let out a bark of laughter, starting after her. She was only about ten feet ahead of him so it didn’t take him long to catch up. Once he did, she felt him wrap his arm around her shoulder and pull her in, giving her a quick squeeze. “So what’ll it be; the usual?”

 

“As if we would choose anything else,” she remarked as they walked the familiar path to their favorite restaurant in all of Panem, The Hob. They lived in the largest city in the country, with a population of some eight million people. There was a restaurant of some sort at every turn, but they had discovered the hidden gem in the early days of their friendship.

 

It was a short walk, only about six city blocks, and Katniss and Peeta made good time, rounding the corner to see the recognizable blue awning of the storefront. He pulled the door open for her, as he always did, and they sat down in the cozy booth they claimed more than five years ago. Sae, the owner, brought them their menus, although they didn’t need them, along with hot tea for Peeta and water, no lemon, for Katniss. The owner had stopped managing the front of the house about two years ago, but still made her way to the dining room when Katniss and Peeta stopped in.

 

After Sae had taken their order, Peeta caught Katniss up on his plans for the coming week. He was tapped to design four wedding cakes by Friday morning and feeling more than a little overwhelmed. Overall, however, he enjoyed the work, which reminded him of the bakery his parents owned back in Twelve.

Once their food was in front of them, the conversation lulled for a few minutes as they got a taste of their meals. Talking with a mouthful of food, Peeta picked it right back up. “So what’re you actually doing this week?”

 

“More than anything, I have laundry and bills to catch u-“ Katniss was interrupted by the screeching of children coming from somewhere in the restaurant. Peeta looked around to find the cause of the commotion as Katniss’ jaw clenched. “Peeta, do not give that child your attention.” Peeta’s blonde curls bounced as his head whipped around to stare at her, open-mouthed, crumbs tumbling out. “That’s exactly what he or she wants; do not look for that child just so you can stare at their tantrum.” His eyebrows lifted and his jaw dropped just a little more. “And close your mouth. You’re not a codfish.”

 

“How am I the one being scolded right now?” Peeta asked, feeling a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. “I’m just trying to eat my turkey club and fruit salad!” Another scream rang through the restaurant and he instinctively searched for the source again.

 

“Oh, honestly, Peeta…” Katniss shook her head and dug into her homemade macaroni and cheese.

 

Silence returned to the restaurant for less than a minute before they heard another shrill cry from a child followed by a woman’s obscenities. Peeta noticed Katniss let out a resigned sigh, carefully placing her fork on the plate. As she angled her body toward the direction of the noises, a tiny form slammed into her. Making no apology, the young boy, no more than six or seven, continued his mad dash through the restaurant. Just seconds later, another little body, this one with a long, blonde ponytail, blew past her, knocking elbows with Katniss, who was still seated at the table. They were no more than a few feet away when Katniss stood up.

 

“Excuse me,” her demand was barely louder than her normal speaking voice, but refused to be ignored. The boy stopped in his tracks and the girl hurtled right into his back. After regaining their bearings, they slowly turned, afraid of moving even an inch out of place, to face Katniss, who was now standing in front of them. She commanded not only the children’s attention, but also that of their fellow diners, most of whom had stopped eating to watch the interaction.

 

“Excuse me; what are your names?” The children did not answer, but stood frozen, gawking at the woman who dared to interrupt their playtime.

Peeta couldn’t tell if their stares held fear, fascination, or both. If he had to guess, it was probably both; Katniss Everdeen had a knack for evoking those emotions simultaneously in him, as well. If the children hadn’t been so out of line, he would have felt just the slightest bit sorry for them.

 

“Well?” she asked again, her tone making very clear that she would not accept silence as a valid answer.

 

“I’m Michael,” the boy mumbled, seemingly aware of his audience.

 

“Hello, Michael,” she greeted him with a curt nod, turning her attention to who she assumed was his sister. “And you?”

 

“Um. Um, my name is Jane.”

 

“Hello, Jane. It’s nice to meet the two of you.” She greeted them as if they were business associates and they both nodded their assent. “Now, would you like to tell me why you are causing a scene in this restaurant?”

 

“We were just playing a game!” Jane whined, receiving an elbow to the rib from her brother.

 

“Be quiet, Jane!” Michael scolded.

 

“That will be quite enough; thank you. I would encourage you both to allow the rest of us to enjoy our lunches in peace.” Katniss cut off the argument. “Now go back to your seats and behave.” With that, she returned to the table and sat to resume her lunch, effectively ending the spectacle.

 

She felt Peeta’s stare burning a hole into her forehead as she placed her napkin back in her lap. Katniss didn’t dare look up, knowing what awaited her; his I told you so smirk. Sure enough, when her eyes flickered up for just a second, he wore that cocky, proud grin.

 

“I hate to say-“

 

“Shut up and eat your pears,” she dismissed him.

 

“Well, well,” they overheard the high-class accent from a few tables over, where the children were parked. “How did you get all the way over here, children?” Katniss ignored the voice, but Peeta glanced over to find a vaguely familiar woman with bleached blonde hair, perfectly airbrushed makeup, and towering heels fawning over the boy and girl. The epitome of a trophy wife, he thought. “And where is Miss Johanna?” Definitely a trophy wife.

 

“Mommy, that mean lady with the braid yelled at us!” Jane immediately tattled to her mother.

 

Peeta snorted and eyed Katniss, who still pretended she was not listening to the exchange. “If I had a dollar for every time I heard that…” Her scowl was particularly pronounced in response to his remark, even if he had a point.

 

The woman eyed their table suspiciously, but never made a move to ask them for confirmation. A younger, scary-looking brunette approached the table, shaking her hands as if she were ridding them of excess water. “Thank God you’re here, Effie. These kids won’t stop,” she ranted to their mother. “I don’t know what you expect out of me; you need a miracle to get them to behave.”

 

Effie scoffed at the woman’s accusation. “They seem to be behaving well enough right now, don’t they, Johanna?” The mother challenged her, lifting her chin the slightest bit.

 

The brunette rolled her eyes. “Funny enough, when I went to pee, they were storming through the dining room like they were in fucking Pamplona!”

 

The woman named Effie gasped, but Peeta didn’t know if it was in shock from the woman’s language or the insinuation that her children were not perfect. She seemed like that kind of mother.

Now, the two women had drawn Katniss’ attention as well. She was going back and forth between feeling utterly amused and positively outraged at the entire situation.

 

“Now, now, children… Behave,” came the drawl of an older, gray-haired man who had walked in during the exchange. He wore a suit, but looked completely disheveled with his shirt half untucked and the knot of his tie closer to his belly button than his neck.

 

“But we are behaving, Papa!” Michael chimed in.

 

“I’m talking to these two,” he thumbed to the blonde and brunette as he plopped into the empty chair between the two children.

 

A soft chuckle escaped Katniss before she could stop it. Definitely amused. Realizing her faux pas, however, she quickly swiveled back to face the table to take a sip of her water. Peeta released a low laugh as well, enjoying watching the flush creep up Katniss’ neck and into her cheeks.

 

“What? You think you and little miss braid over there could do better with these monsters?” The brunette was now yelling at Peeta, although they were less than ten feet away.

 

Katniss shot a warning Peeta’s way. Don’t you dare, she mouthed to him. A wry smile graced his lips, a sure sign that he had no intention of heeding Katniss’ warning.

 

“Well I know she could,” he replied, matter-of-fact. Katniss narrowed her eyes at him; he would definitely be in trouble once this was over.

 

“You know what? Fuck this. Go ahead!” The brunette, or Miss Johanna, slammed something on Katniss and Peeta’s table--a set of keys. “Try dealing with those two for a week and then come talk to me.” She turned and headed back to the table where the others sat. The children watched with rapt fascination, the perfectly dressed woman looked horrified beyond belief, and the frumpy man laughed like he hadn’t seen anything funnier in his entire life. “Effie, I’m done. I quit.” Johanna yanked a black purse off a chair and slung it over her body on her way to the exit. “I feel sorry for the next fucker who has to put up with all your bullshit,” she called over her shoulder.

 

“Manners!” Effie shouted after her, looking distressed at the outburst. She received a set of middle fingers in return.

 

Peeta’s eyes looked like they might just pop out of his head. When he heard the gruff laughter of the man seated a short distance away, he started laughing as well.

 

“How ya doin’, boy?” The man raised his glass toward Peeta.

 

“I’m doing well, sir. How are you today?” Peeta angled his body so he faced the other table completely. It was also a great way to avoid the dagger eyes Katniss was sending his way.

 

Another round of laughter erupted from the man, who couldn’t catch his breath. His children joined in, although Peeta was sure they had no concept of what had just gone down. “Well, apparently Miss Trinket here and I are out of a nanny.”

 

“No.” Peeta heard Katniss’ stern voice come from somewhere in his peripheral.

 

“Wow,” Peeta raised his eyebrows in mock disbelief, “That’s really something. It just so happens that Katniss here is a nanny,” he said innocently.

 

“And it just so happens,” Katniss added, “that Katniss here is taking some time off for a while.” She glared at Peeta. “We’re going.”

 

“Oh, you are?” Effie exclaimed. “Please, dear, could you offer any advice?” She pleaded, looking somewhat distraught at the thought of having to wrangle her own children.

 

Katniss let out a frustrated sigh. It was her biggest pet peeve when parents asked for ‘advice,’ knowing they had no intention of actually taking it.

 

“Please?” the woman asked again, this time looking like she genuinely wanted the help.

 

“You’re paying the bill,” she tossed menacingly at Peeta, standing up and brushing the crumbs from her lap. Walking to the table, Katniss kept her eyes on the children, gauging their reactions to the ‘mean lady with the braid.’

 

“You want my advice?” Effie nodded. “Okay, but I ask that you do not interrupt me or correct me. Just listen.” She nodded again, harder this time. “Your children are out of control. They have no respect for themselves, your parenting, your home, or anyone else for that matter, but they also do not know they are supposed to.” The woman in front of her gaped, as though she had just been slapped in the face. “The children need a routine they can live with and a consistent schedule that includes naps, snacks, and bedtimes. They need more supervision, time outside, and one on one time with you and your husband. If you can provide them those things, then they will have a chance at being respectable, well-behaved young people. But I really wouldn’t waste much more time.”

 

“Well I never…” Effie wanted to continue, to defend herself and her children but she couldn’t find the words.

 

“You asked for my assessment and there it is,” Katniss told Effie, leaving no room for discussion. “Let’s go, Peeta.” She headed for the booth to reclaim her oversized purse, seeing Peeta laying the cash for their lunch on the table. A slow clap started behind her, and, afraid of what she may find, slowly turned on one heel to find the man, father of Jane and Michael and husband of Effie, standing to come over and shake her hand.

 

“I like you, Sweetheart,” he declared. “I’ve been trying to tell my wife all that for years.”

 

“Haymitch!” Effie admonished him.

 

“I’ll give you double what your last family paid you.” The offer stunned both Katniss and Peeta, whose jaws dropped comically in unison.

 

“That’s very generous-”

“Triple if you say yes in the next ten seconds.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m-”

 

“Taking some time off—I heard,” he interrupted her.  Haymitch reached into the inside pocket of his sports jacket and pulled out a wallet, searching through it for something. He fished out a business card and handed it to Katniss. She glanced over it and read Haymitch Abernathy, District Senator: Representing the hard workers of Twelve.

 

“Um,” Katniss stumbled over herself. She was great with kids but was never the one who was good with words. “I could probably start in a couple of weeks.”

 

“Katniss,” Peeta reasoned with her. “What are you actually going to do for a few weeks?” As much as Katniss hated it, Peeta was right. She never took off more than a week, as boredom often robbed her of her sanity.

 

Sighing, she gave Haymitch and Peeta both a forced smile. “How’s Monday?”

 

Effie clapped in the background as the dread graced her children’s faces and Haymitch shook Katniss’ hand again, closing the deal. He nodded at Peeta, returning to sit between Jane and Michael. “Good to see you again, Peeta.”

 

“Always a pleasure, Haymitch.”

 

“Wait—you two know each other?” Katniss cried in disbelief.

 

“We’ve, ah, met at the park a couple times,” Peeta explained, running a hand through his hair.

 

“You are unbelievable,” Katniss glared at Peeta. In attempt to maintain control of herself, Katniss set her ire aside for a few moments. She turned to Effie and the children and offered a polite goodbye, leaving the restaurant before she did something stupid like punch Peeta.

 

“Thanks again, boy,” Haymitch called, raising his glass in a toast. Peeta gave him a knowing smirk in return and followed Katniss out the door. She would get over it eventually. She always did.

****  


\----

_Though quite intent in his pursuit,_

_He has a merry tune to toot._

_He knows a song will move the job along._

 

 

Katniss rang the doorbell of the immaculately groomed brownstone belonging to the Abernathys. Although technically Effie, the mother, former model, and current socialite-slash-activist still went by the name Trinket, they didn’t dare burden their children with a hyphenated last name. Or so she’d read online.

 

Whenever Katniss agreed to work for a family that could be considered ‘high profile,’ she made a point to Google the parents incessantly. The father, Haymitch was a senator from Katniss’ home district, Twelve. His own father had occupied the seat, representing the district of mostly blue-collar workers, for twenty-one years before he passed away suddenly in his early sixties. Needing to fill the seat as soon as possible due to some major legislation on the table, Haymitch ran in a special election, won, and had been there for the last seven years. From what she had found, people viewed him as reluctant to be in the public eye, somewhat unapproachable, but fiercely dedicated to his constituents and his district.

 

When he handed Katniss his card last week, she had recognized his name but did not think anything of it. It was not until she saw he represented Twelve that she actually considered taking on the children. From their short interaction, she knew that living with Jane and Michael would not be a walk in the park. However, as always, Katniss felt confident in her skills and knew she could succeed.

 

Katniss wasn’t particularly thrilled at the stunt Peeta pulled at the diner. She figured it was a setup—she wasn’t stupid. He had a tendency to do this type of thing when Katniss was between families with no immediate plans. She wanted to hit him every time he brought her his next pet project. They usually started with the children destroying one of his beautiful pieces in the park. Katniss wondered what act of terror these children threw at Peeta as she shifted her bag and rang the bell again.

 

An honest-to-God, blood-curdling scream came from within the house. If Katniss hadn’t already borne witness to Jane and Michael’s dramatics, she would have thought someone was being murdered on the other side of the door. As the screaming subsided, there came a thundering sound like elephants rushing down a flight of steps.

 

It was silent for a few moments before she heard the click of the lock. The door opened and one emerald green eye peered out at Katniss.

 

“Good morning, Michael,” she tried her best to sound excited.

 

“Tell me the password!” His tiny voice boomed, not bothering to return her greeting.

 

It’s too early for this, she thought. “Could I please come in?” she asked politely.

 

“No!” Michael screamed, promptly slamming the door in her face. Where on Earth are these parents?

 

The thumping of his running away faded so she pressed the bell twice more in succession. Nothing. Remembering she hadn’t heard the lock click back into place, Katniss took a chance and tested the handle. Much to her relief, the door was open. Instead of dwelling on how long she may have waited on the stoop, she let herself in, closing the door behind her and locking it.

 

The clatter of dishes came from somewhere in the house, from the direction that Katniss assumed was the kitchen. She heard two voices bickering over Ms. Trinket’s preference for bacon, with the high-pitched, feminine voice insisting she simply would not eat anything but organic, free-range, grass fed turkey bacon. Another one of those houses, Katniss internally cringed. The bodiless voices continued their argument as Katniss took in the house before her.

 

The expansive foyer was painted a warm off-white and laid with gorgeous hardwood floors. The walls were decorated with beautiful mahogany frames of all shapes and sizes housing photos of the family. Katniss barely refrained from rolling her eyes at the poster-sized frame showcasing a picture of Effie in only a pair of jeans. Luckily the huge chandelier hanging above the staircase blocked its view from the front door. It was a beautiful home, if a bit ostentatious, but definitely not tacky like some of the homes Katniss had lived in. She could tell this house contained the best of everything.

 

From the foyer, she made her way to the living room, which was filled with oversized, chocolate brown, leather furniture. An obnoxiously large television hung above a stunning stone fireplace, surrounded by built-in bookshelves that were full of books and movies. Toys were scattered across the room, as well as a plethora of children’s books and small electronics. The voices grew louder as Katniss walked deeper into the room.

 

“The new nanny starts this morning, Flavius!” The feminine voice from earlier chirped. “I’ve heard a lot about this one. She’s like the Anne Sullivan of nannies. Haymitch thinks she’ll be able to help straighten the kids out.

 

The man—Flavius, apparently—snorted. “That’s what Effie thinks about all of them, Octavia. The last two, Annie and Johanna, were brutal, though.” Katniss could practically hear his eye roll from the other room.

 

“Oh, please. Anyone could tell from day one that poor Annie was way too nice for these kids,” Octavia reasoned as Katniss approached the doorway.

 

“Well I, for one, hope that this one isn’t as much of a bitch as the last one,” he replied, beginning to scramble the eggs he had been preparing. He must have been the chef, as he wore a bright white, perfectly pressed chef’s coat with his charcoal gray trousers. Both of them laughed at his snide comment.

 

The woman wore a slate gray dress with a crisp white apron over the front of her. She gathered a stack of plates and started for the kitchen table that sat in front of a bay window with a view of Center Park. “Yeah, I—“ she yelped when she spotted Katniss leaning against the doorframe. The dishes crashed to the floor, breaking Flavius from his scrambling reverie.

 

“Oh my God, Flavius,” she looked from the dishes, broken into a thousand pieces on the floor, to Katniss, to the man standing at the stove. “She’s here!”

 

“Oh, joy.” He glanced at Katniss, looking her up and down. The judgment on his face made it clear that he was not impressed with her thus far. “Hello,” he gave her a curt nod and resumed his work.

 

“Hello,” Katniss nodded back, then walked over to the woman kneeling by the dishwasher. “Hi, I’m Katniss,” she watched the woman clearing the large chunks of the white china.

 

“I’m Octavia, the housekeeper,” her smile conveyed her gratitude. “That, over there,” she motioned with her head, “is Flavius. He’s the family’s private chef.”

 

“Good to meet you both. Where can I find the broom?” she asked, taking in the huge chef’s kitchen.

 

“It’s right over in that closet,” Octavia pointed as Katniss opened the door to the obscene pantry. It was stocked with more food than Katniss had seen outside of a restaurant. There was junk food galore, mixed in with countless types of health foods and cereals, and Katniss thought she could probably guess who in the house ate which food.

 

“And by the way,” Katniss noted as she passed Flavius for the second time, “I met the last nanny.” His eyes darted to hers, knowing he’d been overheard. “And I hope I’m not as much of a bitch as she was, either.” An approving smile crossed his lips for just a moment.

 

Flavius emptied the eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast he had prepared onto a large platter, making sure to separate the real bacon from the turkey bacon. He looked over his shoulder at the women who had just finished disposing of the last pieces of the smashed china. “Seven thirty. Get ready,” he warned.

 

Less than a minute later, both Jane and Michael tore through the kitchen. In their haste, one of them knocked over a chair from the table, leaving it to lie on the floor. They circled the island several times, her on one side, him on the other, before calling a truce to eat breakfast.

 

Ignoring the fresh - and whole - stack of plates Octavia had just set out for them, Jane and Michael grabbed handfuls of bacon and sausage links. They chomped away like gluttonous savages, oblivious to the form of their new nanny slowly approaching them.

 

“Who taught you both how to eat?” Katniss asked, disgust written on her face. The kids froze, their heads whipping to find each other, eyes wide in what looked like fear.

 

“Oh, shit,” Michael muttered.

 

“It’s the mean lady with the braid!” Jane whisper-yelled at him.

 

Katniss expertly hid her amusement at their reaction to her presence but Flavius and Octavia did not fare quite so well. Flavius release a laugh through his nose, a weird sort of giggling humming noise, while Octavia laughed through her teeth, hissing like a snake.

 

“That’s not funny, you two,” Katniss scolded the adults, causing a giggle from the children before her. “And it’s not funny for you, either,” she continued as she whipped around to discipline the children as well.

 

“Well, well, well,” Haymitch’s voice instantly commanded the attention of everyone in the room. Katniss maintained her position, but noticed that Octavia, Flavius, Jane, and Michael all straightened their posture. “Scolding the staff and the children within the first ten minutes, are we, Sweetheart?” His gruff chuckle brought a sigh of relief out of the children, and the cook and housekeeper resumed their work.

 

Katniss rounded the table and held out her hand. “Mr. Abernathy,” he took her hand, looking impressed by the firm shake she gave it. “Pleasure.”

 

“Whatever you say, Sweetheart.”

 

“I would ask that you call me Katniss, please, Mr. Abernathy,” she stated. I’d rather be called ‘the mean lady with the braid’ than ‘sweetheart’ any day, Katniss internally scoffed, maintaining her calm demeanor.

 

He laughed again. “Sure thing. And I would ask that you call me Haymitch.”

 

Katniss nodded her agreement and looked past him. “Will Ms. Trinket be joining us this morning? I would like to go over the terms of our agreement.” She heard a snort from behind her, but was not sure if it came from Flavius or Octavia.

 

“Ms. Trinket,” he good-naturedly mocked the title, “is indisposed this morning.” He continued when she furrowed her brow in confusion. “And every morning hereafter.”

 

“What?” Katniss still needed clarification.

 

“Mommy needs a long time to put her face on,” Jane explained with childlike innocence.

 

Katniss’ lips quirked just the slightest bit but Haymitch caught it. His howl of laughter could probably be heard in the next building. Michael joined in, though Katniss was certain he didn’t get the joke. Haymitch laughed all the way over to the fridge and pulled out the orange juice and returned to the table.

 

He sat and pulled a glass from the group of several set out with the plates. “Sorry. You were saying… Your terms?”

 

“Your reference to pay the other day,” Katniss started.

 

“I believe I said I’d triple your pay, correct?” She nodded. “And how much did your last job pay per week?” Haymitch watched her jaw drop at his blunt question.

 

“I hardly think that’s appropriate to discuss in front of the children.”

 

“Okay,” he leaned back, iPad in hand, humor in his eyes. “Jane, Michael, head upstairs and wash your hands and faces.” He directed the children without taking his eyes off the tablet in front of him. Once they’d left the room, he addressed Katniss again, “You can just let Effie or me know at your leisure. How’s that sound?”

 

“If that’s what you prefer.”

 

“Was there anything else?” Haymitch egged her on.

 

“Yes. I require every second Tuesday off, otherwise I will be here full time through the week and as needed on weekends.”

 

“Sure, sure,” he waved her off, returning to his reading, or maybe it was a game. “Every Tuesday.”

 

“Every Tuesday off and triple the pay of my last job?” Katniss asked in disbelief.

 

Haymitch nodded his assent, still distracted by his iPad. He was most definitely playing a game. “That’s what I said, Sweetheart.”

 

“Mr. Abernathy.” He didn’t respond, so she said it again, significantly louder, demanding his attention. “Mr. Abernathy.” This time he looked at her. “Triple my salary and an extra day off. I beg your pardon; are you ill?”

 

Haymitch raised his almost empty glass of orange juice in the way one would a toast. Katniss had seen him do it at the diner, and had a feeling this was his response to many situations.

 

“If you’re as good as the boy says, it’ll be more than worth it, Sweetheart.”

 

Katniss scowled at the nickname, somehow knowing he wouldn’t abide by her wishes to be called by her own name. Expecting no further conversation or instruction from him, Katniss picked up her oversized purse from the stool she had set it on when she first came in.

 

“Good day, Mr. Abernathy.” She exited to the living room, but not before catching the smirk on Haymitch’s face as he finished off his OJ.

 

Katniss headed for the foyer again, assuming the children had gone upstairs to wash up after breakfast, per their father’s orders. She strode through the disastrous living room once again, making a mental note to put it on the list of chores. Laughter came from upstairs and Effie’s high-pitched voice praising the children for washing their hands.

 

Upon coming to the entryway, silence filled the room for a brief moment. She was rounding the banister to head upstairs when she heard squealing and giggling coming down the stairs. Katniss looked up to find Jane and Michael careening toward her, sitting cross-legged on something wooden that looked very expensive. Jane was seated behind Michael as they flew down the stairs, laughing harder as they hit a bump every few steps they passed. She could never admit it to anyone in this house, but it actually looked very fun.

 

When they landed on the first floor, they tumbled off their makeshift sled and rolled on the ground, trying to catch their breath.

“That’s enough,” Katniss spoke over their laughter, but they refused to listen. For just a second, Katniss thought they began to laugh louder once she addressed them. “Jane. Michael.” She tried again and this time they did quiet down.

 

The click of heels at the top of the stairs grabbed their attention and they smiled up at their mother, very clearly playing to her. As she descended the stairs, dressed impeccably from head to toe in designer clothing, shoes, and makeup, her saccharine smile turned to a grimace and then horror.

 

Effie snatched the tray from the ground. “Children! Where did you get this?” She asked, outraged. Katniss was curious to see how she disciplined the children; it would give her a good starting point for working with them.

 

“We took it from the footrest in your room, Mommy,” Jane said simply, obviously not afraid of getting in trouble for her misbehavior.

 

“That is mahogany!” Effie reprimanded them both. “You mustn't play with Mommy's things without asking. This is very, very expensive, and you could have ruined it.” She said it as though ruining the tray would have been worse than her children losing their teeth or breaking a neck.

 

“Okay, Mommy,” her daughter smiled. Effie beamed back at her and moved on, as if the entire confrontation hadn’t happened.

 

“Where are my manners?” She came forward, pulling Katniss in by the shoulders and kissing the air beside both her cheeks. “So good to see you again, dear. Thank you for coming.”

 

“You as well, Ms. Trinket,” Katniss replied, halfway returning the air kisses once she realized what Effie was doing.

 

“I trust Haymitch got you up to speed on the children’s routine and activities?”

 

“Actually, no, not really.”

 

“Oh, that man,” she admonished her husband, but it was obvious she adored him. Effie opened one of the four doors in the foyer; this one was a coat closet. She withdrew a sleek, black trench coat, although the weather didn’t necessarily call for one. Katniss supposed it was all part of her image. “I have a huge event today. Everyone who is anyone will be there, and I mustn’t be late.” Katniss vaguely remembered reading online that, as Panem’s former ‘it’ supermodel, Effie was very visible in the public eye rallied against the sexualization of women in the media. As Effie prepared for her departure, the kids chattered on, trailing behind her everywhere she went. Katniss also followed, remaining silent and observing both Effie’s and the children’s behaviors.

 

“Now, Katniss. More important than anything, is that the children have a good, fun day and do not go on any unplanned adventures by themselves.” She stared the children down as she said the last bit, touching up her lipstick one last time in the mirror. “I’m off, dears. Give me a kiss!” The children rushed up and clung to her, begging her to stay with them. Effie air kissed them, as well, as she untangled them both from her legs. “Mommy has to go. Today is going to be a big, big, big day!” She chirped as she backed her way out of the room. And with a slam of the door, she was gone.

****  


Jane and Michael moped back to the living room and sank into the couches. Haymitch had exited through the back door during the commotion, and Flavius and Octavia were cleaning up the mess in the kitchen. Michael had a mini iPad in front of his face while Jane combed through the tangled mess that was her American Girl doll’s hair. Katniss sat in the leather chair, finding it to be as comfortable as it looked, and eyed the children. For once, she was unsure where to start. Typically the parents of the children she nannied for gave her explicit instructions as to what they wanted done throughout the day; usually they were micromanagers.

 

“Shall we get to know one another a little bit?” She asked, feigning cheerfulness.

 

Michael looked up from the iPad but returned to his game immediately. “Johanna just let us sit and play our games in here or in the toy room.” He was pouting, but Katniss didn’t know if it was due to his mother and father’s departure or something else.

 

“Luckily for you, I happen to think iPads are a poor form of entertainment,” Katniss remarked. “And you won’t be using them when I’m around. We’ll play all sorts of games, spend time outside, and maybe make some new friends.”

 

Jane seemed unimpressed at the prospect of human interaction and continued brushing out the snarls in her doll’s hair. Michael, on the other hand, didn’t even acknowledge her words. Better than outright screaming in my face, I suppose, Katniss mused.

 

“So what do you think?”

 

“I want to just sit here and play my games,” Michael muttered, annoyed that this stranger was prepared to change his whole routine.

“Kids your age should be outside playing during the summer.” Katniss tried to tempt them.

“I’m six and three quarters,” Michael said as though he were insulted.

“And I’m five and a half,” Jane piped up.

“Pardon me,” Katniss said. “I had no idea I was in the presence of two individuals as worldly as yourselves.” She waited for them to answer, but got nothing. “School starts soon. Wouldn’t you like to have fun?”

 

Neither one responded. Katniss suspected they had perfected their nonverbal communication skills when it came to the ‘torture the new nanny’ routine. Jane tossed her doll aside and went to the other couch and cozied up by Michael. She peered over her brother’s shoulder to watch the game he had been playing, making little noises every now and then. Still seated in the oversized chair, Katniss studied the room and devised an agenda for the day. If things went according to plan, maybe they could get some work done.

 

After another minute or so of waiting, Katniss rose from her chair and smoothed her t-shirt, jeans, and the braid that hung over her right shoulder. She stalked over to the children and stood in front of them expectantly. Neither gave her the time of day, so she decided to take matters into her own hands. Literally.

 

She took the iPad out of Michael’s hands and exited the game on the screen. The children instantly protested. Loudly.

 

“Hey, give that back!” Michael demanded, grabbing for it as Katniss turned her attention to the screen. She scanned the list of apps as the complaints continued.

 

When the whining grew even louder, Katniss said listlessly, “One moment, please. I’m looking for something.”

 

“I told you she was mean,” Jane mumbled to her brother, who nodded his head in agreement.

 

Katniss locked the iPad and brushed a pile of Legos on the coffee table behind her onto the floor. She set the iPad in the cleared space and looked at the children thoughtfully. Jane’s head shrunk into her shoulders like a turtle hiding from danger and Michael’s mouth hung open in shock. They looked downright terrified.

 

“First things first: you may call me ‘Katniss’ or ‘Miss Katniss.’ And nothing else.” Jane’s eyes looked anywhere but at Katniss. “How would it make you feel if I didn’t call you Jane?” She made eye contact with Katniss at this comment. “How would you feel if I simply called you ‘the whiny girl with the ponytail’ instead?” Jane hung her head. “Well?” Katniss prompted.

 

Jane raised her head, but only halfway. “I wouldn’t feel good.” Katniss quirked an eyebrow at her answer. “It would make me sad.”

 

“I don’t want you to feel sad, Jane, so I will call you by your name,” Katniss’ voice softened. “Can we agree to call each other by our own names?” Both of the children nodded, shame written all over their faces.

 

“I’m sorry, Miss Katniss,” Jane apologized. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

 

Katniss gave her a small smile. “Thank you, Jane. I appreciate that,” she said as she walked to the couch and lowered herself to her knees so she was face-to-face with the young girl. “From now on, I think you and I can be friends as long as we can be kind to each other. Deal?” Jane gave her a wide grin in return and Michael let out an irritated harrumph.

 

“And Michael,” she remained at eye level with the children, but walked on her knees the few feet it took to be in front on him. “I’m not much of a talker, either. I’m not so good with words. But how about we both try our best to get along, and then we can set aside some quiet time every day for the games you like to play, too.”

 

Michael didn’t seem totally put off by the suggestion that he and Katniss come to a compromise. Katniss took his posture, which had relaxed considerably, as a tentative ‘yes’ and rolled with it. “But if we’re going to do that,” she continued, “We have to be respectful to one another.” She wasn’t quite sure if Michael nodded or she imagined it, but with that out of the way, she could begin the day.

 

“Now let’s see,” she turned back to grab the iPad and went straight to the Music app.

 

“What are you doing, Miss Katniss?” Jane popped up from her seat and made her way to look over Katniss’ shoulder, imitating what she’d done to her brother just minutes ago.

 

“Well,” Katniss gestured to the room around them, toys and books strewn everywhere, “We have some picking up to do down here, don’t we?” Jane’s jaw dropped in surprise. “And I have a feeling the toy room upstairs isn’t much better.” Both Jane and Michael looked guilty, confirming that Katniss had hit the nail on the head.

 

The kids watched as Katniss scrolled through their music, still confused as to what she was doing. Every now and then, she would tap something and resume her scrolling, baffling the kids even further.

 

Katniss felt the children’s stares boring into her skull but continued her search. She learned at a young age that the easiest way to get chores done was by, essentially, having a dance party. Katniss didn’t dance anymore, but her kids loved it, just as she had when she was young. Once they were dancing around the living room, kids hardly realized they were cleaning up their messes as long as it went with the beat.

 

She created an upbeat playlist from the vast music library stored on the device. There was everything from Taylor Swift to Disney to ABBA, including a number of Glee songs that would have been alarming, had Katniss not had them all on her phone as well. The first song Katniss had chosen was “Can You Do This” by Aloe Blacc; it had the perfect rhythm to get the kids moving and shaking. “Shake It Off” and “Roar,” which had become standbys, would soon follow, but she was confident this would be a great start.

 

As soon as the first notes came through the pathetic speaker of the iPad, Jane grabbed it and ran to plug it in to the sound bar sitting on one of the bookshelves. The song boomed through the living room and Jane pressed the back button to start it over. It started again and she began wiggling her little butt to the beat, and ran over to pull Michael off the couch.

 

He hesitated for a second but could not pretend he didn’t want to dance, too. Within a minute, the kids were jumping and dancing in goofy circles around the coffee table. The decibel of their giggling actually rivaled the sound system.

 

“What are you doing, Katniss?” Michael laughed, having to shout over the song for her to hear him.

 

“We’re going to do some work while we dance, silly,” she responded, smiling easily at the boy. It was a silly observation to make, but he looked so much happier when he was smiling and having fun with his sister.

 

“What!” They yelled back in unison, followed by more giggles.

 

“Let’s go!” Katniss motioned around them, beginning to gather the books that looked like they had literally been thrown around the room.

 

They took her cue and went around the room collecting the larger items that lay out, like Jane’s dolls and Michael’s remote controlled trucks. When the song switched to Taylor Swift, they screamed, and for the first time that morning, it was with excitement. Michael dance-crawled all over the room, heaping the Legos into one big pile, while Jane joined Katniss in retrieving all the books.

 

As both girls reached for the last book, one from the Amelia Bedelia series, Jane pulled the book from Katniss’ hands. “You’re not dancing, Miss Katniss!”

 

“Yeah, you’re not dancing, Miss Katniss!” Katniss spun on one foot to find Flavius and Octavia eyeing her from the kitchen. Octavia was dancing like she was one of the backups from the video—correct choreography and everything—while Flavius just laughed and shimmied occasionally.

 

“Miss Katniss doesn’t dance,” Katniss supplied matter-of-factly. “This is your dance party. I’m just here to help.” She returned to the task at hand and grabbed a few stray stuffed animals off the floor.

 

They all continued to dance and clean through the rest of the song. When Katy Perry came on, however, Michael ran over to her and grabbed her hand, pulling her to stand with Jane at the coffee table. The three of them held hands and ran in a circle behind one another.

 

After only four songs, the party moved upstairs to the toy room, which was worse than Katniss had imagined. She was pretty sure these kids had more toys than several of the families she had worked with before, combined. However, eager to get the work done, the kids showed Katniss how to work the sound system in the room and they resumed their dancing. Every now and then, the kids caught Katniss moving her hips or her shoulders to the beat, but she would never full-out dance with them.

 

They spent more than three hours cleaning up the playroom. Surprisingly, the children pulled their own weight very well, only getting sidetracked a few times. It usually took a few times before the kids learned to like the idea of the dance party/cleanup party. The party ended with Frozen, mainly because Katniss knew that if she’d led with it, it would’ve been the only songs they danced to all day.

 

As the final notes of “Let It Go” played for the sixth consecutive time, Michael put away his final box of Matchbox cars, stacking them neatly in their designated space in the closet. Jane, Michael, and Katniss collapsed to the floor, exhausted from all the hard work they’d put in. The kids raved about the dance party, animatedly recalling the particularly fun or funny moments from the last three and a half hours.

 

When their laughter subsided, a comfortable silence came over the group, only to be interrupted by Jane. “Miss Katniss?”

 

“Yes?” She turned her head to the left, coming face to face with her.

 

“You’re not so bad.”

 

She chuckled. “Thank you. I’m glad you think so. You two aren’t so bad, either.”

 

“Miss Katniss?” Michael asked, this time.

 

She flopped her head to face the right. “Yes, Michael?”

 

“What’s for lunch?”

 

The giggles started all over again, and Katniss couldn’t help but feel that it was a pretty successful first morning.

 

\-----

 

_Oh, happiness is bloomin’ all around her,_

_The daffodils are smilin’ at the dove._

 

 

“Where are we going, Miss Katniss?” Michael prodded her with his finger.

 

Katniss had been with the Abernathys for two weeks now, and the kids were doing wonderfully. In their short time together, Katniss, Jane, and Michael had managed to establish a routine and begin to build a friendship. Michael was behaving much better, although he still had his moments where he acted out, sometimes taking Jane with him. Jane, on the other hand, had taken a keen interest in Katniss and clung to her whenever Effie was gone, which was most of the time. Haymitch popped in more often, sometimes interrupting their dance parties and mocking Katniss relentlessly until the end of the day for her choice in music.

 

“We’re going to see a friend.” Katniss said, still forging ahead, dragging the other two behind her.

 

“Where is your friend?” Jane inquired.

 

“I think we’ll find him in the park today.”

 

“Oooh, your friend is a boy,” Michael teased suggestively. “Is he your boooyfriend?”

 

Katniss shook her head and rolled her eyes at the insinuation. “Oh, honestly, Michael,” she chided as they rounded the corner to the park entrance.

 

She spotted him immediately, as she always did. Peeta waited on their bench, his blonde waves blowing with the breeze. He was sans hat today, thank God, but wore jeans, a generic band t-shirt, and an orange zip up hoodie. When he caught Katniss’ eye as she entered the park, a child on each hand, he flashed his brilliant smile. It lit up his whole face, and she returned it with a grin of her own.

 

“Hey stranger,” he called out as they approached the bench.

 

“Hi there,” she offered a little wave, but was restricted by Jane’s grip.

 

“Miss Katniss,” Jane interrupted. “Who is this?”

 

“This is my friend, Mister Peeta,” Katniss explained, gesturing to Peeta as he stood and walked to the group.

 

“Well hello there!” Peeta greeted the young ones enthusiastically. He crouched down to their level, offering a hand for each of them to shake.

 

Michael was leery of the new guy, but Jane took his hand eagerly, giving it loose shake. “Hi, Mister Peeta. I’m Jane. Michael says you’re Miss Katniss’ boyfriend.”

 

Peeta’s eyes danced in amusement, flicking up to find a slight blush painting Katniss’ neck and cheeks. “It’s very nice to meet you, Jane and Michael,” he said sincerely. “Wait a minute,” he snapped his fingers and acted as if the thought just dawned on him. “I recognize you two! We met you in the diner, no?”

 

Both kids bobbed their heads fervently, thrilled that their new friend remembered their first meeting. As if he hadn’t planned the whole thing, Katniss thought.

 

“Yep,” Jane popped the ‘p.’ “I remembered you ‘cause of your curly hair.”

 

“You did?” Peeta sounded impressed.

 

“Yeah, but you were wearing a hat that day,” Michael chimed in. “Miss Katniss stole it, I think. Did she ever give it back?” He eyed Katniss as though he were interrogating a criminal.

 

“She did, buddy,” Peeta saved her. “What are your plans for today, kiddos?”

 

They both shrugged, neither having an answer for Peeta. Katniss noticed a glint in his eye and shot him a warning glare.

 

“What do ya say we make an adventure of this afternoon?” He asked the children, ignoring the daggers Katniss shot him. She always claimed his adventures turned into a lot of work for her, but he knew she loved it.

 

“Peeta,” she admonished him, but it was too late. The kids were bouncing excitedly on their toes, throwing out questions at Peeta a mile a minute.

 

“They just want to go on an adventure, Katniss,” he pleaded innocently, batting his eyelashes.

 

“Really, Peeta, we were only here so I could give you a check for you to give to the repairman tomorrow,” Katniss griped, referring to the actual reason for their meeting during her workday. “Why do you always complicate things that are really quite simple?”

 

“It’s all part of my charm,” he winked as a smirk graced his lips. “Now where to, kids?”

 

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TO BE CONTINUED

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